Friday, February 17, 2006

Soba Sogood

Two days ago, I had an intense craving for cold japanese soba. It was so dire I decided to make a lone trip to the Arts Canteen to appease my gastric juices. This is extremely abnormal on my part because I completely detest embarking the shuttle buses which I suspect have zilch suspension systems at all. Of course, unless I have a dear friend at any other faculties I have to meet; otherwise, the boring fare at the Science Canteen and NUH Canteen will suffice.

To my utter despair (and some might add, shuayness), as I arrived before the Japanese stall (I actually believe I hopped right up) to gleefully order "One Cha Soba please!", the auntie gave me a sympathetic cock of head before replying that the dish was sold out.

SOLD OUT!?

At 130pm, which is hardly after lunch hour. Sigh. Momentarily, I lost my bearings and strolled distractedly amidst the lunch crowd at the Arts Canteen. Purchasing a take-away box of potato salad, I trekked back to a bus stop to wait for the dreaded shuttle bus.

It was a bloody hot day. Just by standing and not moving a single inch of muscle, I could feel perspiration ooze out of my pores at the strangest places. Like my knee, for instance. Yes, it is weird but I was suddenly acutely aware of a trickle of sweat from behind my knee. It felt like sauna as I watched at least five crowded shuttle buses creaked away before I finally could embark on one.

All these shite for NO SOBA. I was an angry girl so I came back to my office and lambasted my poor Berkeley neighbor with gripes. Ha ha. Poor guy, eh?

Yesterday, I went for lunch with two professors. Genki Sushi?, my supervisor inquired. Sure, I replied nonchalantly, hiding the fact that my brain was actually going into a wicked bout of guffaws - HA! HA! SOBA! HA! HA!

I patiently ordered my soba and interestingly, my supervisor thought that was not sufficient and ordered sushi that I like. Isn't he the greatest? He actually remembers what sushi I like to eat, just on the basis of the past few times we have been to sushi places. Ah, I love my boss.

Right. So I was a happy soba-filled girl. Or so... I thought.

Later in the evening, as I travelled to Suntec City to meet Kailing and Cynthia, the latter called and queried, Japanese Food? I rubbed my tummy and replied, Right on.So, I went for my second round of soba! Twice the happiness in a day! I was delirious. I kept yakking the entire meal and before I knew it, it was 10pm! We had stayed in the sushi deli for three hours.

Me: Opps! Sorry! It's 10pm! You told me you wanted to watch your show at ten.Cyn: It's ok. HAHAHA.Me: Sorry. Sorry.Cyn: No, no, you are more entertaining than the serial. HAHAHA.Me: Doh.

Oh, not to forget, silly otterboy in Berkeley called me while I was at work and slurred "Do you know who I am a not?" Now, if that isn't the most irritating greeting anybody could get on the phone. And he repeated it thrice! Tsk. Otter, if you cut that three sentences out of your conversations, you might realize you might have acheive greater utility out of your calling card by uttering more useful sentences to me, like "Bring me cans of abalone when you come here!" (which will never happen now because you wasted your time asking me to guess who you are.) Oh, and don't call me when I am working my ass off (overstatement, really) to tell me "Ay, I am in bed now, under my sheets, so I decided to call a random person..." because I may get so mad I decide to deliberately forget your birthday. Muhaha.